


She looks Asleep

by CacoPhoniA



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Character Death, Gen, Sadstuck, dreambubble, genderbent character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 15:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CacoPhoniA/pseuds/CacoPhoniA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finds an alternate Dave in a dreambubble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She looks Asleep

She was very pale, and it made sense, considering Dave's own paper-like complexion, but this pale was one of death, a greyness lingering beneath. Her lips had lost whatever color had been present before, hanging open to showcase the blackness therein, white teeth. Her eyes were shut gently so, as if she were asleep. Blonde eyelashes rested on sharp cheekbones, casting shadows that didn't seem quite real.

Did dead people cast shadows?

John didn't know what to think, standing there, staring down at Dave's alternate self he'd stumbled across in this fucked-up dream bubble.

She was dead, that he knew. Very dead. He would know the look of a dead person, wouldn't he?

He wondered where her shades had gone, or if she had an alternate John to give her some. Maybe she was dead, too.

Her legs lay in front of her, splayed at odd angles, knees and ankles knobby and protruding.  
Her hands were the same, a worrisome thin that made John wonder what she had gone through before drifting off (or perhaps knocked) into her eternal sleep. She looked very young, young as when they had entered the game. Too young, in John's opinion. 

No blood dripped from anywhere, no visible injuries or swelling.

She looked immortilized, like Snow White. 

Forever a kid, trapped in time.

He wished he could mark her grave, or maybe even say a few words on her behalf, but this Dave was not his Dave. She was someone else's, dead and forgotten in these sandy-covered wastelands. 

The breeze picked up, and he watched as a few blonde strands of hair brushed her waxy face. He felt a lump in his throat suddenly form, and his eyes stung. Placing a hand on the sand below for balance, he knelt and leaned forward, pressing his lips to her very cold forehead. 

To him, it was the most closure he could offer her. 

He hoped one day he may do this to his Dave, when this awful game was over and won, his friends alive and well. 

Scrubbing stray tears away, John rose, turning away. Feet shuffling in the sand, he walked away, hoping he would wake up soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for this, ugh.


End file.
